


Show Me Now

by Magnetism_bind



Category: Batman v Superman: Dawn of Justice
Genre: Blowjobs, M/M, Sarcasm, angry flirting, handjobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-11
Updated: 2015-12-11
Packaged: 2018-05-06 02:57:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5400281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magnetism_bind/pseuds/Magnetism_bind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A different finish to that little interview on the red carpet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Show Me Now

"What kind of position do you imagine me in?” Bruce quipped.  
  
Did he imagine the young reporter’s eyes darkening at the innuendo or was that really there? Nope, it was really there. Bruce smirked.  _Well, well_.

“I can imagine quite a variety of options for the issue at hand.” Clark adjusted his glasses. “The point is whether the bat vigilante is satisfying the public’s need for justice.”  
  
“Some call him a hero.” Bruce responded. Damnit, this kid was getting under his skin. It didn’t help that he was attractive as fuck. It’d been a while since Bruce had found anyone this appealing, and now it had to be some hotshot reporter, clearly digging for anything he could use  
  
“Well, he’s not. Clearly the citizens of Gotham require more than what their ragged knight is offering these days.”  
  
“So not a hero in your eyes then.” Now Bruce was more amused than anything.

Clark’s eyes narrowed. “Heroes know when to step down.”

“But not before they get taught a lesson?” Bruce’s voice cooled considerably. “Am I right?”

 “Not exactly what I was going for…”

 “Too bad.” Bruce smiled. “I can imagine quite a variety of lessons you might need though.”

 Clark scowled at the open mocking, trying to hide the heated flush doing its best to flare up inside him. “Is that right?”

 The rain had completely stopped by now. Clark’s hair was still damp, sticking to his forehead. By now they were standing way too close. Belatedly Clark knew that was a mistake. Just as he knew the next words out of his mouth were also something he would later regret.  
  
“I’d like you to see you try.” Not his most adult moment, sure, but for some reason Bruce Wayne brought that out in him. Clark wasn’t sure if it was the smug way about him, or the fact that the billionaire didn’t seem to give a fuck about anything but enjoying himself…

Bruce merely smiled that megawatt grin of his. “Take a walk with me.” He gestured towards a gap in the paparazzi. “This way.”

Clark followed hesitantly. There was a door marked PRIVATE in the side of the building. Bruce opened it as they drew closer.

He glanced down. “I think you have something on your shoe.”

As Clark looked down, Bruce shoved him straight through the door into the dark hallway. Inside Clark hit the wall hard.

Bruce entered, pulling the door shut forcefully behind him. He eyed Clark with open distaste. “You have the nerve to come into  _my_  city, insinuating that the best defense we’ve got here is shit.”

“Just old.” Clark said curtly. “…and well, just  _tired_  I expect.”

Bruce swung the first punch. Clark should have expected that too. He caught it right on the jaw, fist grazing bone hard as he smacked into the wall again.

 “Say that again.” Bruce growled.

 Clark shook his head, trying to clear it. Tired or not, Bruce Wayne packed a hell of a punch. “It’s to be expected when someone reaches a certain point in their career.” He deadpanned. “Or merely that time of life.”

Bruce swung again but this time Clark was ready, catching him by the wrist and spinning him around up against the wall. Bruce let out an  _oomph_ as he hit it.

“He should face it.” Clark whispered, too close in his ear. “It’s time for younger men to step up and he needs to step down.”

 "You’d like that wouldn’t you?” Bruce sneered. He twisted sharply to the left, just enough that Clark lost his grip.

 They spun round in the hallway, now facing each other head on. Bruce was breathing a little harder now, but it was barely noticeable to anyone other than Clark. Clark’s hair was tousled like he had been in a wrestling match. He adjusted his glasses again, readying himself for the next attack.

 “This how you conduct all your interviews, Mr. Wayne?”

 Bruce smiled. “You really are new, aren’t you?” He stepped in close again, letting Clark believe he was getting ahead of himself, too eager for a chance to win. “Only the private ones.”

 “What’s private about this?” Clark asked. Other than Bruce Wayne probably didn’t want to be seen brawling with a reporter at a charity fundraiser.

 “This.” Bruce moved in, side stepped him lightly and shoved Clark up against the wall again. His glasses bounced off his nose and smashed onto the cement.

Clark opened his mouth, and then made a small “oh” of surprise as Bruce’s hand cupped him recklessly between the legs.

“I think I’ve got a handle on the situation just fine.” Bruce said. “What do you think?”

 “It does seem like you have a pretty good grasp of the matter.” Clark admitted.

Bruce grinned, and damnit if Clark wasn’t starting to enjoy the sight. He liked making Bruce Wayne smile. He squirmed a little and Bruce tightened his grip.

 “What’re you?” Clark gasped as Bruce abruptly released him, only to stroke him with the tip of his forefinger.

  “I have a few comments to make to the press.”

 Clark stared at him. “What?”

 "You wanted to know why I made this a private interview. I did that for you.”

 Clark groaned as Bruce squeezed him again, caressing his balls.

 “Gotham has fallen on dark times before, but where this city is truly great…”

He unzipped Clark’s pants, ignoring the way Clark froze.

 “…is its ability to rise again.”

His hand tugged Clark out of his briefs, now making him catch his breath.

“And put itself back together, stronger and harder than before.”

 “You talk a good talk, Mr. Wayne.” Clark breathed. He could barely speak at all with the way Bruce was stroking him. He was supposed to be out there getting a story for tonight’s event, and instead here he was getting a handjob from Gotham’s most notorious playboy.

Bruce smiled. “That’s not all I do.”

Clark’s eyes widened as Bruce knelt in front of him. Bruce Wayne was –  _oh holy fuck_. Bruce’s hands grasped his hips, holding him steady as Clark sank back against the wall. His knees were suddenly weak all the way through to the bone.

“See.” Bruce drew off. “It’s not that her citizens care about her. No, the average Joe might not give a shit. But the Bat,” the word was a shadow on his tongue, “now  _he_ cares about Gotham.”  
  
“And you think that gives him the right to do whatever he wants?”

Bruce’s teeth were a feral gleam. “Maybe.”

He lowered his head again, sucking Clark back into his mouth. Bruce took him deeper, upping the pressure until Clark gave in and gripped his hair. He expected Bruce to pull off again or give him the classic “not the hair,” but instead Bruce  _responded_  to his touch, leaning into his palm, bobbing his head quicker and quicker. Clark made a noise, trying to warn him but Bruce just held on, holding him prisoner until Clark was spent and gasping.

Only then did Bruce let go and sit back, wiping his mouth with a discreet hand.

“I think my position on the Bat is perfectly clear.”

He stood, straightening his jacket and sweeping a hand over his hair back in place.

Clark just stood there, still dazed. “Don’t you-“ He gave a nod towards Bruce, unsure of what he was going for. “You didn’t, um...”

Bruce shrugged. “Call it an example of Gotham’s generosity.” He paused, and then scooped up Clark’s broken frames. “I’ll buy you another pair.”

He looked almost shamefaced, which tempted Clark to let it go. Instead he straightened up. “You better.”

 Bruce smiled, and it was back to the same old game. “Send the bill to Wayne Enterprises.” He smoothed down his tie and walked down the hall, back out to the flashing lights.

 _Fuck_. Clark still couldn’t breathe. He just stood there, and then, all of a sudden, he started moving again. He had to get back out there. He  _had_  to pull himself together so he zipped up his pants and tried to neaten his hair.

When he exited the hall Clark saw Bruce had stopped just in front of the doors and was talking to the press.

“As I’ve demonstrated to the press, I believe Gotham is still in good hands.” He looked over their heads, and his eyes caught Clark’s. “But anytime any of you wants to debate it further, look me up.” He smiled. “I’m sure it’ll be a pleasure.”

He gave a wave to the cameras and walked inside amidst shouts of “Mr. Wayne! Mr. Wayne”

Clark just shook his head, hiding his grin.

“Jeez, Clark, what happened to you?”

He sighed. “It’s a…long story, Lois.” He reached up out of habit, and his hand brushed his bare nose.

Clark sighed again. Yeah, he’d be contacting Wayne Enterprise. Still, a slight smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. Maybe it’d be worth it.


End file.
